


The yellow and the black

by doctornerdington



Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: 221B Ficlet, Aging, Bees, Honey, M/M, Retirement
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-07
Updated: 2014-05-07
Packaged: 2018-01-23 22:38:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1581968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctornerdington/pseuds/doctornerdington
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>A 221B.</p>
    </blockquote>





	The yellow and the black

**Author's Note:**

> A 221B.

We are old now, so very much older than we ever thought to be. And how wrong we were about it all when we were newly-hatched: devouring each other, so clever, and always, always hungering for more. Thought London was life, thought it the muscle that sent the blood slamming through our bodies. The bustle, the grime, the infinite work; these were the things that nourished us then, and oh, we said we’d be bereft without them. Never could imagine we’d grow so frail, slow, weak. Not when we flew at the sun, and never burned, never fell. 

All burns. We all fall down. 

And so, we are reduced. We sit in the garden, knee to knee, and do not speak. This is our secret understanding: a language of gossamer wings, of sweet pollens that dampen our eyes, of rain that restores us, of smoky hives and dappled sun.

We sup on honey, dripped from the comb, golden, to our lips. Sticky, the tongues that tangle now, and slow and gentle the hands that love. Touch honey here and there, anointing throat (sagging, wrinkled), belly (dearly paunched), and then below, sucking clean. We have learned the name of the blood-pump, and its nature.

We rest and dream. They fly for us, now that we cannot. We are the yellow and the black.

**Author's Note:**

> For ceapcologne.


End file.
